


14th Batch

by Cyberrat



Series: Fic Batches [14]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game), The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Breeding, CBT, Come Inflation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Felching, Feminization, Hair Kink, Human Winston (Overwatch), Just the Tip, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mpreg, Pet Play, Pregnant Sex, Rape Play, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Size Difference, Spanking, Temperature Play, Victim Blaming, Virgin Jesse McCree, Young Jesse McCree, faux beastiality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-01 10:04:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17242253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/pseuds/Cyberrat
Summary: 14th Batch of fics





	1. Reaper/Soldier76

**Author's Note:**

> Reaper/Soldier76 – old boys; felching; cream pie – Jack has super soldier stamina and Gabriel lets him play because he knows he’ll be having a good time, too.

“There you go… nice and easy…” Jack drags a hand along Gabriel’s back while he ruts in deeper, breathing through his orgasm. Gabriel hums and turns his head, glancing at him from the side.

“You’ve been awfully enthusiastic today…” His voice is nice and deep and smooth; not even hoarse. He’s not done more than lie there, hips propped on a few pillows as he sighed and maybe groaned while Jack pumped into him tirelessly.

Jack just smirks. He is looking down at the ash gray ass, juicy cheeks spreading readily when he grabs at them to watch how a bit of the mess – now the fourth filling – starts to bubble out past his cock.

“Just been… inspired, I suppose,” he finally responds. Gabriel hums. There’s a smug sort of grin hidden somewhere in his goatee but Jack does not rise to the bait when he can watch Gabriel’s plump, puffy rim clutch at his dick as he carefully starts pulling back.

“Can you keep it all in for a while?” he murmurs when the rim is clenched warm and comfortable just around the crown of his cock. Gabriel’s thighs flex and he’s very quiet for a moment. Jack thinks he will refuse but then he nods his head.

“Yeah… alright.”

He carefully clenches down and with a bit of finesse, they manage to have a minimal mess.

Jack feels good and sated after Gabriel let him work off all that saved-up energy, limbs nice and warm, and he is in a charitable enough mood to carefully lower himself between Gabriel’s massive thighs.

He remembers the first time he’s been between them – seemingly several lifetimes ago now – and he still can’t help thinking Please crush me whenever he is there.

He’s not here for his own amusement though. At least not primarily – so he spreads Gabriel’s ass cheeks again and has a look at that gorgeous little hole that’s been sucking at his dick so well the past few hours as he worked out all that super soldier energy.

Jack can hear Gabriel sigh, and then the muscle relaxes, letting a warm trickle of creamy cum drip out. Jack hums. His eyes have gone so very bad over the years, but he still knows when he sees something _beautiful_.

He says as much, and Gabriel stays awfully quiet. Knowing that Gabriel can become surprisingly shy, he lets it slide and just dives in.

Above him, Gabriel takes a deep breath when he starts lapping at his warm, worked rim, his thighs shifting restlessly around him. He’s always so nice and sensitive; squirming for Jack at just a single innocent finger tickling his hole. It is adorable, to be quite honest, but Gabriel usually becomes moody when he says as much, so he doesn’t this time.

Gabriel struggles to kind of get his knees beneath him, then pushes back into Jack’s mouth. If they have ever been shy about demanding sexual favors from the other, Jack can’t remember any of it.

He laps greedily at Gabriel’s hole, then pushes at the plump rim to try and squeeze his tongue in; clean him out thoroughly after he so generously let Jack fuck load after load into him until it was a frothy mess in his guts.

Gabriel, ever helpful, bears down with a soft whine, pushing out some of the cream he’s kept warm. Jack hums encouraging, nose dug into the crack of Gabriel’s ass as he smothers his face between his fat cheeks.

It is not like he particularly likes the taste or consistency of his own cum, but he knows how much this does to Gabriel who most of the time has trouble these days feeling anything with any sort of intensity.

It takes hours until his body is primed enough to react properly to Jack’s ministrations in the first place, but now he seems to have warmed up enough to become a bit needy as he tries to fuck back onto Jack’s face.

Age hasn’t been kind to them, but they try to make the most of it anyway. 

Gabriel lifts up a bit higher still onto his knees and his cock, formerly snuggled into a now wet patch of the pillows he had been lying on, flops down heavy and fat.

Jack pulls away from sucking at his flushed hole to instead lap at the nice cock and balls that are right there for the taking.

“No,” Gabriel rasps, “here… please. I need-”. One hand comes back, searching clumsily, then finding Jack’s somewhat receding, white hair. The fingers dig into the thin strands, and Jack has to hurry to follow suit to where Gabriel guides him back to his ass if he doesn’t want to lose any more hair prematurely.

Gabriel keeps whining as he licks into him deep, cleaning him off of cum. It becomes louder and more insistent – but so does the buzz of the nanomachines inside his body as they get hot for Jack as well.

_They like you_ , Gabriel likes to purr when he’s feeling sentimental, and in moments like these, when they hum like a swarm of bees in his ears, Jack can almost believe it.

It’s difficult to breathe when his face is mashed into the warm crack of Gabriel’s ass, but he can practically taste how close Gabriel is now, and he yearns for it now as if it were his own release.

The machines keep buzzing.


	2. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Soldier76 – no porn, sowwy; blind amputee Jack; body worship; comfort; panic attacks – They deserve each other. They always have.

Gabriel watches Jack breathing through the last of whatever nightmares have jolted him awake. His limbs are akimbo, sweat glistening on his chest. His eyes are not fully closed. They look very wet.

He struggles to calm down his breathing but the longer it goes on the more obvious it becomes that the remaining darkness is upsetting him.

He can’t just blink it away anymore, or reach over to the night stand to make the shadows recede. Those days have passed completely just a few weeks ago. He still has to come to terms with losing the last of his eyesight.

When it is clear that he is on the brink of falling into another panic attack, Gabriel shifts.

Jack jerks at the hand on his thigh, kicking out on instinct. Had he had the lower part of his legs still, he would have hit. As is, Gabriel can see him grit his teeth, the muscles at the edges of his stubbled jaw standing in painful relief.

He closes his eyes and turns his head away from Gabriel.

Gabriel squeezes his thigh tight, letting him feel the shadowy claws of his hands before making them recede. He climbs over him, sitting down heavy just above Jack’s knees.

Jack takes a deep, rattling breath, then turns his head back towards Gabriel. There are no tears anymore, just a bone deep fatigue that touches something vulnerable and aching in Gabriel’s chest.

“Do you want your visor?” He eyes the ports on Jack’s temples. Jack shakes his head, his hands crawling across the mattress towards Gabriel. He pauses for a second when the blunt fingertips touch his knees, then delicately places them on Gabriel’s thighs.

Gabriel pats the backs of his hands – thumb briefly stroking across the deep gauge at the base of one thumb that has lost some of its motion range – then starts crawling farther up until he is sitting in Jack’s lap.

“Wanna fool around?” he mutters, voice deeper and more playful. He rolls his hips, letting Jack feel the warm bulge of his cock through their shorts, and leans down to drag his beard along Jack’s collar bone.

Jack shifts. He makes a sound that’s neither here nor there, restless and obviously unhappy. When Gabriel puts his hand on the old soldier’s chest, he can still feel the fast drumming of his heart as it struggles to calm down after the nightmare.

“I don’t know why…” Jack starts, his voice absolutely grating after a few hours of sleep. Gabriel has to breathe through it; he feels like a cat that got pet against the grain and he wants to arch his back into it.

He wants to say _Because I’m horny_  but Jack continues before he can.

“I don’t know why you’re still here with a-”

He pulls in a sharp breath, not quite a sob, but Gabriel feels like he can hear the ‘cripple’ anyway.

He grits his teeth and bites at the muscle of Jack’s chest, making him gasp and jerk beneath him, part shock from the sudden touch and part from the pain of it.

“I thought you of everyone would know best that I am only exactly where I want to be,” he hisses, voice a bit smoky and otherworldly. He sounds angry, and he feels it, too.

Jack lifts his chin and does not answer. He looks mulish but also like he is offering his throat. Submissive.

Gabriel huffs and grabs at his thinning, white hair, pulling him just how he wants to devour his mouth.

When Jack finally kisses back, he moves down his body.

He is not really horny anymore, but he still lets him feel the weight of his cock dragging against his own crotch, then down one leg as he straddles one of his thighs while he touches some of the worst scars littering his torso.

Jack had been a gorgeous man back in the SEP days; just a handsome boy right from the movies that Gabriel and at least half of the other soldiers couldn’t wait to fuck like a toy.

He’s not handsome anymore – hasn’t been for a while – but he is still gorgeous. His muscles twitch nervously, still sensitive and at attention when Gabriel touches the deep gouges carved into him.

His stumps are a different thing altogether, though. Even years after the accident, Jack is still skittish about them being touched. He hisses through his teeth like Gabriel is touching open wounds when he carefully cradles one in his hands.

They are clean, no blemishes there. Angela had done the amputation and the job is clean and well-performed.

Gabriel leans in, pressing a kiss against one, and within the second, he has Jack’s fingers in his hair, gripping hard, but not dragging him away. He hasn’t even processed him sitting up, but there he is, breathing heavy, his clouded eyes turned right at Gabriel’s face as he breathes overly warm air against the sensitive skin.

“Don’t,” Jack grates out, but he’s not pulling Gabriel away, so he answers: “Okay.” and presses another kiss against the stump, and another, and another.

Jack’s breath hitches a few times. It sounds wet, almost like sobs. The grip he has on Gabriel’s hair becomes more lax until he lets himself fall backwards again, one arm thrown across his eyes.

Gabriel keeps slowly kissing at his stump, fingers digging in in an approximation of a massage while Jack breathes deep and carefully through it all.

He can accept Gabriel’s touches easier on some days than on others. After bad nights it is worse than usual, but Gabriel does not mind it much. They are both fucked up; it will most likely not get any better, but they… fit together. They deserve each other.

They always have – and they’ll be making the best out of it.


	3. Thor/Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor/Loki – incest; temperature play; cum inflation; size kink; bit of hurt/comfort – Thor is larger than life.

Thor is an overly sentimental, brutish fool. Loki had known it since their youth, obviously. It is difficult not to notice.

He lacks much of the finesse needed for the finer aspects of his duty to the realm, and while he does possess some… intellect, he most of the time chooses not to utilize it.

Loki does not care much for his brother’s ways most days. They are not subtle and filigrane enough for his tastes, though they do have some merit to them in… other aspects of life as he had found out.

Thor is unashamed, unabashed, brash in every aspect of his life, and that he shows the same tendency for this in the bedroom does not surprise Loki much. Concerns him a bit, yes, but does not surprise him.

[[MORE]]

He tries to meet Thor’s gaze as has been requested, but he finds it difficult to maintain the connection for long. He’s never been good with looking others in the eyes, and having Thor in all his naked, shining glory kneeling between his thighs is something he feels nigh impossible to look at.

Thor’s deep voice rumbles, warm like sunshine.

“You are so shy…” His big, blunt fingertips trace along Loki’s jaw, then he pinches his chin carefully and tilts his head back towards him. “Brother…”

Loki shudders at the sound, small nipples going hard and sensitive. Thor is… Thor. He is gorgeous and big and warm like the sun herself. Something easily lovable – the light to Loki’s dark.

He is not shy, not by a long shot, but Thor makes him feel like he is anyway.

He wants to open his mouth, snake out his tongue; be flirtatious and outrageous right back at Thor so his too perceptive blue eyes stop _looking_ at him like that, but Thor’s other hand is sliding against one of Loki’s long, slim thighs, and he forgets about how to do… anything, really.

It is a disconcerting feeling to not have a thousand thoughts running around his head. Maybe it shows on his face because Thor _coos_ at him, now cupping his face with both of his huge hands and leaning over him, pressing bristly kisses all over Loki’s mouth and cheeks. Even his forehead.

“Do not frown, brother. Everything will be fine. I am strong – I can take it.” A beat of silence. “I want to take it.” His voice has slipped deeper, rumbling like thunder. He reaches down between them, huge hand with fat fingers nudging between Loki’s thighs. Touching his tender hole.

Loki exhales on a shudder. Thor’s touch is unbearably hot.

“It’ll be on your head if you hurt yourself,” he rasps against Thor’s amorous kisses, then has to focus on _relaxing_ and letting the glamour vanish.

It starts at his head, sliding down his bodies like a cold shower that leaves him shuddering out of pure instinct before he realizes that he is not cold. No – he is in his element. He _thrives_ on the iciness emitted by his own body. His breath fogs in front of him as he blinks his eyes open and looks up at Thor and his unbearably fond smile.

It has to hurt touching him, but Thor does not seem to notice. For him, pain always seems to be something of an afterthought. Something that is not quite real for the God of Thunder… and Fertility.

Loki breathes through the immense stretch of Thor’s cock pushing into him, but he can’t quite keep the noises contained. Thor is massive. Of course he is. He pushes in on gentle rocking motions, crooning at Loki while his eyes are alight with joy and something hotter. Darker.

His big hands are all over Loki, feeling up his icy skin, trailing along the markings he can find. They are impossibly, unbearably hot.

Loki squirms, tries to turn on his belly, maybe crawl away… his mind is not the cool ice it usually is. He feels drugged like he’s imbibed too much and Thor keeps him pinned with hot hands and hot cock that pushes into Loki’s guts, rearranging them with every long rocking motion into him.

Like a mountain moving.

Thor is grinning wide and like a lunatic. Loki’s freezing body has to be hell on his throbbing, flexing cock, but he pushes in again and again, barely pulling away before rutting into him once more – like he can’t bare to be out of him for longer than a moment.

Like he is determined to warm his brother up from the inside with a fat cock in his guts.

Warm his belly with his cum that pumps into him like molasses and hot like magma. Thor only pauses for a moment before starting the cycle up again, unrelenting and tireless, his face curiously zen-like. In his element, dicking his brother and filling him up with load after load until Loki’s belly bulges and he feels like Thor’s essense has to drip out of his nose.

God of Fertility, indeed. 

He feels swollen. Full. Bloated. _Way. Too. Hot._

He will be melting on Thor’s cock. He will perish with a belly full of cum and his hole stretched wide from Thor’s insistent puppy-like love that he just has to pour all over Loki until he is a mess and can’t think of anything else other than the next push in. The next jerk inside him. The next wave of thick, potent cum making his guts stretch and his belly bloat.

It is an effective method to keep him from doing mischief, at least.


	4. Roadhog/McCree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog/McCree - breeding sow!McCree; boar!Hog; faux beastiality; RAPE TW; breeding kink - McCree is a trouble maker and hog just wants to get his dick wet.
> 
> (Had a bit of trouble with this one scenario-wise... hope you are happy with it anyway D: it’s more on the rape play side but still)

“Damn that’s a good sow. Look how sturdy he is. Darn near impossible to get an appointment.”

“Y’ sure you wanna try that? Heard he’s a nasty piece of work. Bit some of the boars somethin’ nasty.”

The first farmer glances over to his companion who is also leaning against the small paddock, looking at the sow in question. McCree is a big sow with a good bit of meat on him – and currently rolling around in the mud, happy as can be. He’s a pretty boy to be fair; broad and strong with two rows of dark, delicious looking nipples that start at his pecs and go down his thick, hirsute belly.

“Don’t worry yourself none. It’ll be all fine,” the first farmer answers. The second one looks unconvinced until they hear a ruckus from behind the door leading to the little muddy paddock of the sow.

“What in-”

The first one tilts his head towards the doors that fly open, revealing an absolutely gargantuan boar that lumbers in on short, sturdy legs, trailing two men like flags behind him.

The farmer waves at them, raising his voice.

“Let ‘im go, boys! He’s not goin’ anywhere!” he calls and then adds with a fair bit of amusement: “Already smelled that nice cunt. He’s not goin’ anywhere before he hasn’t destroyed it.”

“That yours?” the other one asks a bit faint, watching as the two men let go of the ropes while the boar trudges on without ever having been truly constricted. He is absolutely massive, pushing a huge belly in front of himself as he makes his way through the mud in which he sinks deeply.

“Yep,” the farmer answers, popping the p with in inordinate amount of satisfaction. “Think he’ll be able to handle the sow?”

“Don’t know who could if not he,” the man croaks, watching with rapt attention as the spectacle begins.

When McCree sees the behemoth trudging towards him, he is on his feet and trying to get away within seconds.

The boar lunges, surprisingly quick for the size of his… everything, and grabs him around the ankle with one large, meaty hand.

It’s then that the squealing begins.

The sow has no chance getting away, no matter how hard he struggles, and he seems to sense it as well. He looks more indignant than afraid, kicking and clawing and trying to bite as the boar drags him back with unrelenting force beneath his bulk.

It looks like he has to crush the sow right beneath him but when he puts the firm jut of his gut on McCree’s back, pinning him effectively, all it does is push the sow farther into the soft, suckling mud.

If the farmers thought that the sow had made a ruckus beforehand, they realize that it had been nothing compared to the pitch and volume of his squeals when the boar starts to lazily rut, first searching and then apparently _finding_ that warm little slit.

The small eyes in his round face are glittering with malicious amusement, jowls quivering as he plants his short, fat legs in the soft soil and starts rutting forward with intent. There’s no particular interest in the sow beneath him it seems, even though McCree is screaming like he is being ripped in half… or, more precisely, getting his belly fucked open on the biggest boar cock he’s ever been forced to take.

“Reckon the little prissy bitch never got treated right,” the boar’s owner muses. He sounds and looks smug, leaning against the wooden railing while a crowd starts gathering, drawn by curiosity as to the source of the pitiful squeals filling the exhibition halls.

McCree’s screams taper off when he realizes nobody is springing to his defence. What can be seen of his face above the mud he’s being fucked into looks dazed; like he can’t believe just how quickly he’s been thrown to the ground and mounted by the boar. There’s been no time to play hard-to-get or try any funny business – the hog has simply seen and taken, not caring for any of the young, rebellious breeding sow’s antics.

The man next to hog’s owner shifts. There’s sweat at his temples and he licks his lips before he speaks, never taking his eyes off of the mating that somehow manages to look brutal and lazy at the same time.

The only sounds to be heard now is the low bassy grunts of the hog as he fucks forward and the lewd suckling sounds of the mud as McCree gets fucked along the round.

“Yeah don’t think he ever got his cunt spread on a dick like that. Prolly will take right away, don’t ya think?”

The farmer nods sagely, eying McCree’s sturdy body speculatively.

“Should be. But hog’s not needed anywhere else for the next few weeks. I’m sure he’ll be up to another try or two.”

When the huge boar finally pulls back, McCree groans long and relieved. His ass is still tilted in the air, giving a good view of his gaping hole and the watery seed that is dripping from the raw rim.

Free of the incredible weight of the boar’s guts, McCree drags himself around on shaking limbs, watching his tormentor through messy strands of hair as the boar sits himself down with a wheeze, his cock still half-hard and pink and delicious looking.

Hog’s owner barks a rough laugh as he watches the recalcitrant breeding sow crawl closer to start licking at hog’s cock and the big warm balls bellow.

“Came around after all. Who’d’ve thought.”


	5. McCree/Bob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Bob – virgin!McCree; loss of virginity; gentle sex – Jesse has found the perfect candidate in Bob.

The one time Jesse had tried to get it on with one of the guys and finally get his prize (namely a nice fat dick spreading him open… he’s only ever fantasized about it but he thinks he might just fall in love with the feeling), the guy had been annoyed to hell with him and his ‘hectic as fuck bouncing, stop _moving_ so much, kid, _fuck_!’.

They’d been interrupted shortly after by Ashe sending them out to get their hands on a supply waggon and Jesse had been kind of relieved about it.

Bob is a way better choice than Gus had been those few months ago.

For one, Bob does not talk and make him feel like a goddamn stupid kid.

He has a nice presence: calm and large; a bit intimidating with the unrelenting stare of his small green eyes, but nothing that Jesse can’t deal with… especially when Bob touches him all nice and careful, big blunt fingers sliding between Jesse’s cheeks and petting the little trembling muscle they find there.

Bob can’t talk but he sure does make a lot of noise; mostly a peculiar deep rattling that Jesse thinks sounds like a purr as he gets draped across a dusty crate in the back of the hangar with Ashe’s personal butler right behind him, getting his ass spread for the first time on someone else’s fingers – even if those are big and hard and cool to the touch.

Jesse is not particularly picky about it. He just pants along, mouth open and tongue maybe lolling a bit in his enthusiasm as he rabbit-jerks his hips backwards and tries to fuck himself on Bob’s fingers.

Bob, in turn, calmly grabs Jesse’s hip with the other hand and pins it down mercilessly until Jesse can’t move an inch anymore.

Yeah. Ok. Fair enough. 

Jesse has a bandana loosely wrapped around his throat and when Bob starts dragging his fingers along the trembling, clenching walls of his squishy guts, he starts chewing at the tip of the triangle because it is either that or start howling like one of the coyotes that like to hang around base at night.

He definitely does not want anybody to become any the wiser that McCree is getting his V-Card taken on a dusty crate by Ashe’s Omnic.

When Bob takes his hand off of Jesse’s hip he does not realize it at first. Only when the big Omnic taps his thigh does he turn around with hazy eyes, bandana still in his mouth, dark with spit as he keeps chewing and sucking on it just to have something to do with his mouth.

It falls out from there when his jaw drops open, staring at the big segmented cock that is gently swaying in front of Bob. He has no fucking idea where that thing suddenly came from but he’s not complaining, no ma’am.

Bob, apparently realizing that Jesse is frozen to the spot like a deer caught in the headlights, curls his thick fingers around his wrist and gently pulls his hand until he can curl his fingers around the fat cock and play with it while Bob keeps moving his own, fucking them into Jesse and spreading them out until his toes curl and his belly goes all hot and molten.

It’s like Bob wants him to become acquainted with the friend that is about to open Jesse up and mold him forever into the shape of this Omnic’s dick, and Jesse feels all soft and a bit sentimental as he lets his clever fingers trail along the seams between the different segments. They are strangely slick with some kind of silky oil.

He wanted to get fucked and finally have his insides rearranged by a nice cock, but now he strangely feels like he is being made _love_ to, and that is a whole different kind of… situation.

Before he can get all weepy, Bob finally pulls back and takes his nice big dick with him.

Jesse feels his cheeks get spread apart wide. He pulls in a breath that he holds. He has the strange feeling that Bob is staring at his asshole, and that – more than anything else – makes the tips of his ears flush.

He holds nice and still, making himself wait like a _good boy_.

He thought it might be a bit… uncomfortable or something; maybe even scary – but Bob is patting his hip and is pushing in on gentle rocking motions that coax his body to spread for the fat dick slow but inexorable, and all Jesse can do is hold on for it and whine through his teeth when the gentle burn sets in.

His gut feels heavy and full; it is a weird feeling, like he has to bear down (which he does) but the feeling of fullness does not relent, and so does Bob who fucks into him with a careful kind of measurement that only a machine can produce.

Everything goes dark when Bob leans over him. He’s a big guy and has no trouble keeping up fucking him slowly while nudging his big fingers against Jesse’s mouth until he opens up.

There’s not much sucking he can do, overwhelmed as he is, but Bob seems to be happy with dragging his fingers along his tongue while he mirrors the same down below, cock sliding in deep and spreading Jesse so wide he feels like his hips are too damn small for the Omnic dick.

It’s overwhelming and a bit painful in the best of ways, and everything he could have wanted out of his first time.


	6. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Soldier76 – SEP days; just the tip kink; extreme stretch – Gabriel has a short, fat cock. Jack is very much into it but it needs a bit of convincing to get what he wants.
> 
> (bit longer this one; took some of the gift money to up the word count because it was v difficult to somehow put in fucking + also insecure Gabriel :’) )

They are kissing, wet and messy and Gabriel’s hand shoves into Jack’s pants without hesitance. Jack arches up into the grip of his wide, warm palm, hips pumping up easily. Gabriel is good at this.

Really good. Good enough that he’s gotten away with it an embarrassing amount of times, absolutely blowing Jack’s mind with tight, wet hand jobs or the maddening suction of his mouth.

(And goddamn Jack had never been obsessed with mouths until Gabriel fucking Reyes just blew his mind, and now he can’t help but stare at his lips whenever he talks or – even worse – eats.)

Jack groans into Gabriel’s mouth and sucks at his bottom lip while he tries to keep his wits about him long enough to get his hand at Gabriel’s cock in turn.

He manages as far as one thick, muscular thigh before Gabriel grabs his wrist and tries to dissuade him.

Jack whines and pulls back with a distracting wet slide of their lips, panting hot against him: “Please, I need your cock.”

“Next time, Jackie,” Gabriel purrs back. Even his goddamn voice is distracting; nice and soft.

Jack whines, fucking up into Reyes’ hand because Gabriel’s thumb is playing with the tip and paying special attention to rubbing the slit there until stars explode in front of Jack’s eyes, making him speak before he can think of how to properly word it: “I know about your dick. I don’t care – C’mon, please.”

Gabriel pulls back, his face suddenly very blank and unimpressed.

“What about my dick, Morrison?” he questions, a mean glint in his eyes. Jack groans and drags a hand across his face. He tries to think of something to say but comes up blank because his cock is very much hard and very much interested in getting acquainted with what Gabriel is holding out on.

Everybody knows about Gabriel’s dick, of course. He does not think anybody has dared to say anything about it to him, though.

Jack does not think Gabriel would believe him if he told him that he has rubbed one out almost every day thinking about that short fat cock Gabriel is packing.

He looks at him helplessly and Gabriel snorts, looking disgusted and disappointed as he stands abruptly to probably get out of the situation.

Jack lunges for him, arms stupidly curling around his waist because he comes up short with what else to do. He guesses it is a good thing that Gabriel has not immediately broken his arms for it.

“No, please, Gabriel, I…” he swallows hard. “I just really want to get fucked by you.”

He sounds like a stupid, horny farm boy and he feels like one, too. Gabriel suddenly whirls around on him and before Jack can react he is on his back with Reyes straddling his waist and one of his big hands around his throat, squeezing until it is nigh impossible to breathe.

Jack wheezes, mildly annoyed at how his dick only gets harder, the tip having managed to slip out of his open pants where it is drooling freely in the open air of the room.

Gabriel looks at him with cold rage in his eyes.

“You wanna get fucked, Morrison?” he hisses. Jack tries to nod but with Gabriel’s palm around his throat it is equally as impossible as breathing. He lifts his hips and pathetically humps at Gabriel.

Reyes looks down, sees the wet head of his dick, and seems to realize that Jack is not just fucking around with him.

He grinds his teeth and finally stops choking him. He kneels up and works on his pants. Jack stares, mouth slack and saliva gathering thick on his tongue in anticipation as Gabriel angrily pulls his shorts down enough to let him have a look at his dick.

Despite Gabriel’s cold anger – which Jack comes to realize is more like insecurity that the other man lashes out with – his cock is a bit chubbed up.

It is not small by any means; short, yes, but not small. It is like the rest of Gabriel Reyes: thick and sturdy. An unbelievably fat cock that is not longer than the breadth of Jack’s palm.

He swallows but it does not help much; his mouth is immediately flooded again. He squirms and turns on his belly right then and there, angling his ass up.

Gabriel is rough with him; one hand on the back of Jack’s head, pressing his face into the bed until he is struggling for breath again. His movements are rough and jerky.

They’re both very quiet, only their heavy breaths filling the silence. Jack can feel the restless energy radiating from Gabriel. He would have thought it to be anger if he hadn’t seen the helpless look on his face a split second before he’d gotten his face mashed into the pillows.

Gabriel still thinks he’s about to get made fun of.

Jack thinks he probably will get the gist when he finally has his cock in his ass but when the moment comes he can’t think much of anything anymore because Gabriel’s dick is as blunt and wide as a can of coke and Jack can’t do anything but howl into the bedding.

Gabriel is just panting, labored and harsh, his big hand still on the back of Jack’s head.

Jack thinks he is going to lose his mind when the stretch just doesn’t let off. Gabriel pushes and pushes and whines softly in the back of his throat, still trying to work that fat short dick into his friend.

He eventually takes his hand away to use it and spread Jack’s cheeks wide apart. It helps some, but not much. He is howling into the pillows, thinks – _knows_ – that he has to tear any goddamn second now.

He is close to begging Gabriel to stop when the head suddenly, thankfully pops past his rim.

Jack’s mouth is an ‘o’ of surprise. Time seems to stop for a split second before a wave of endorphins crashes his system. He thinks blearily for a second that it feels so good it is _scary_ , and then he is coming so hard he’s not thinking of anything much anymore.

Gabriel just hangs on for the ride, his big hands on Jack’s hips, feeling him convulse and jerk and hearing him gurgle through his orgasm.

When Jack finally comes down from his high, his muscles are so lax that Gabriel can easily pull his dick out of the soft gape of his hole and then pop the tip back in again.

Jack jerks like he’s been shocked and then melts deeper into the mattress, slurring: “This was amazing.”


	7. Sidon/Link

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link/Sidon – continuation of Batch 13, Fic 5 - double penetration; belly bulge; size difference; felching/rimming; hero worship – Sidon has starry eyes for Link. Link just loves getting down and dirty.

Link is a man of few words – none, to be quite exact – but that does not mean that he is necessarily a very _quiet_ man.

Especially now that he has stuffed himself with both of Sidon’s cocks – a feat Sidon still is not sure how he managed, even though he has been present for the whole process – Link is being recklessly and unabashedly vocal.

Sidon adores it, usually. Just how he adores how stubborn the Hylian is, practically growling at the Zora prince when he’s tried to take at least one of his slippery red cocks from him. This time, however, having Link damn near howl as he crams the tight, squishy confines of his body with Prince Sidon’s dicks is… not optimal, to say the least.

Just a scant few meters down the steep slope, the Lynel of Ploymus Mountain is prowling, bow in hand and itching to pierce his lightning arrows into whoever has dared to invade his territory.

Sidon’s big hands flutter uselessly around Link’s shoulders and arms, trying to figure out what to do while the Hylian Champion’s thighs work tirelessly in pushing him up and then letting him sit back down with a kind of masochistic mercilessness that takes Sidon’s breath away.

The motion is accompanied by a tight little grunt from the Champion, his fine brows drawn together while his mouth is slack and so very inviting.

Sidon stares at the vicious bulge in Link’s usually tight belly. He can barely compute the fact that that bulge his _him_. That those are _his_ cocks that spread Link so wide that his guts have to rearrange to fit him properly.

He does not know how to feel about it. He likes how silky and squishy and warm Link is around him, but he can’t help but feel incredibly rude for his… everything. He can do nothing but sit and let Link do as he pleases while the Hylian is so very generous and kind, accommodating his little body so it can warm Sidon’s cocks and milk them with the trembling muscles he has…

Link lifts again and lets himself fall down, and this time he cries out; a delicious little love cry that Sidon would have loved in literally _any other situation_. As is, his hands fly up, one of them cradling the back of Links’ head as the other presses across his mouth.

The Hylian looks at him funny. He seems to be trying to glare, but it is made more difficult by the vicious flush on his cheeks.

“Please,” Sidon whispers nervously. It is difficult to have a clear thought when he wants to lean over until he has Link beneath him, brace his little body with one hand and give it to him hard and fast until he can hear his teeth clack together (how… rude)-

Link is not deterred. He rides him with abandon, his hands on Sidon’s chest, strong little fingers digging into the Prince’s tough crimson scales. Sidon can feel Link’s breath puffing against the palm of his hand, as well as the soft vibrations of the little sounds he makes whenever Sidon’s cocks slide deep and spread his hole far apart.

Sidon feels overly hot watching him; knowing how rude he is being by just sitting there and enjoying the Hylian Champion working away on him… So when everything is said and done; when Link comes for a third time, his eyes slitted like a Lynel that has his belly full and fought a good battle- 

When Sidon has come until his teeth clacked together, filling Link with cum until his belly had _gurgled_ and is distended with what he’s pumped into him-

Sidon almost hectically flips him over.

Link grunts, tired and confused, fingers digging into the soft, juicy grass as he glances back at Sidon who is spreading his small ass and eying the angry red gape of his spread hole.

Sidon feels his insides squeeze painfully, shame starting to fill his chest.

“I am… so sorry,” he whispers. Link grunts. He sounds annoyed, starting to try and wriggle around, but Sidon keeps him pinned and leans down.

His big, broad tongue is the only thing on his body as silky and soft as the Hylian’s skin, so he uses it to try and gentle down the inflamed looking rim of his hole.

Link makes a soft choking sound, then angles back into Sidon, unashamedly offering up his hole and the slippery mess that is steadily dripping from him into the Prince’s greedy, open mouth.

He can reach deep when he opens up wide enough, tonguing against soft, slippery walls that had been squeezing down and cushioning his cocks not too long ago.

One of his big hands reaches down, cradling Link’s belly. It still feels a bit bloated in his palm. When he carefully presses the heel of his hand against it, Link groans, the tired muscles of his hole spasming around the Prince’s tongue.

Sidon can feel himself wanting to slip and drifting away as he tirelessly laps at the Hylian Champion’s insides to get him as clean as possible and gentle down his stretched muscles. He has to remind himself to be vigilant and not only keep track of what he is doing with his razor sharp teeth, but also whether the smell of their coupling has drawn the Lynel yet.

They are lucky, though. Link is mindlessly pulling fistfuls of grass out of the loamy soil as he rocks back onto Sidon’s tongue. The noises he makes sound like he is on his best way to coming – again – and Sidon can feel himself swelling with pride about the prowess of the Champion.

Link never tires and is never cowed. Sidon feels _honored_ to be allowed to lap up the mess he’s left in him.


	8. McCree/Hanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McHanzo – continuation of Batch 12, Fic 13 - victim blaming; mpreg; pregnant sex; 300words – Does McCree develop... feelings???
> 
> (McCree calls Hanzo ‘kid’ in his head, but Hanzo is, in fact, mid-twenties).

Maybe Jesse is getting soft on the kid but he has to admit that Hanzo looks incredible riding his cock while cradling his huge, full belly in his arms.

There are none of the usual angry tears to be seen; just a dark flush on the young man’s cheeks and his tongue lolling out of his slack mouth as he rocks on Jesse’s cock in a way that is familiar by now for him: The kid looking to massage his prostate with the veiny shaft as he’s forgotten that this is about _Jesse’s_ pleasure.

While usually Jesse would put a stop to this quick and mean with a sharp pinch to one pudgy nipple or a slap to one of Hanzo’s thighs, hard enough to produce the imprint of his hand, he now leans back and watches the strangely hypnotizing motions of Hanzo’s swaying body.

He has a new haircut – something short that makes him look older and more distinguished – and while he had been swearing up and down that the elders had ordered him to do it, Jesse still has the nagging feeling that he’s done it just so Jesse wouldn’t be able to use it as a leash anymore.

Whatever. He looks still nice like this. Definite eye candy even – or maybe especially – with the huge belly he is carrying around with him.

He’s started to almost waddle in the past few days. Jesse is not entirely sure when the kid is supposed to arrive (he does not care enough to ask, if he is being honest), but he is sure it has to be soon.

It’s hot, if nothing else. Jesse likes the thought of fucking his heavily pregnant little ‘wife’. Hanzo smells different, too. He can’t quite pinpoint it, but it is enough to make him stop the kid in the hallways so he can cage him in against one of the walls and sniff at the crook of his neck.

When Hanzo starts making those pathetic little bitten-off noises that let Jesse know he’s about to come, Jesse lifts one hand and places it on the huge swell of his belly, just feeling out of idle curiosity.

Hanzo freezes on top of him, staring down with his pretty, dark eyes. Jesse takes his hand away again, feeling himself flush dully with embarrassment.

He bucks his hips.

“C’mon, slut. Milk my cock. Daddy’s got an appointment at the casino.”

And just like that, the strange little spell is broken.


	9. McCree/Hanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Hanzo – DL McCree+older Hanzo; feminization, pet play – rude, young, time displaced McCree has fun with cockslut Hanzo.

“Ho… ho… that’s what y’ ‘re s’posed to say, right? _Calm down, pony_. Ho.”

McCree’s drawl is as lazy and uninterested as it can get without outright yawning at Hanzo. He wants to bristle and put this pup, this… _child_ on his back, but the sad truth of the matter is that Hanzo gets off on this rude, young McCree that can’t even be bothered to talk properly, it seems.

If Hanzo had ever thought Jesse’s – _their_ Jesse’s – drawl was bad, he hadn’t known how much it had improved after a tight training by Blackwatch.

It gives a better impression on from _when_ this version has been ripped out of time.

“Somewhere between entering and leaving Deadlock,” Jesse had said, shrugging his shoulders.

It doesn’t matter much to Hanzo when he’s on his hands and knees, getting ridden like a pony.

McCree had taken his fine silk shawl and curled it around Hanzo’s throat – and while everything in Hanzo’s nature should have screamed to _not_ want that happening to him, he had sat docile as a kitten and let this _child_ do whatever depraved thing came to his mind.

Like fucking Hanzo from behind hard enough that his bony hips were slapping painfully into Hanzo’s backside while he used the shawl like a leash, or, yes, reins.

This McCree is still gangly and has sharp edges everywhere. He hasn’t taken up the habit of smoking yet either, but he knows how to run his mouth either way.

While Hanzo is kneeling, his elbows jittery and threatening to give way, gulping in sharp breaths of air while the reins are kept loose in McCree’s fist, McCree contemplates the breadth of his back and the smooth, round muscles that can be seen everywhere.

Finally, his large hand comes down in a sharp smack against Hanzo’s thigh, making him jump.

“Enough loungin’ around, Princess. C’mon yer got such a cute cunt, but yer just lettin’ me stuff it without workin’ a lick for it.”

He pulls back. The motion is accompanied by an embarrassingly wet sound as his cock slides free, as well as Hanzo’s hoarse whine. He is stricken by his own whorishness. How he eagerly turns around and spreads his legs, hands on his thighs, thumbs and forefingers framing his cock and balls like an offering as he stares up at a man barely half his age.

It’s difficult but not impossible to see Jesse in the sharp features of the other man. There is less scruff and more jaw. His grin is insolent and shows off slightly crooked teeth whose set are at least familiar.

“Nah babydoll. That’s not how it’s gonna work. I’m tired of riding this pony.” His eyes flick Hanzo up and down, staying at his pectorals. He’s used to this, too. Jesse always has been a breast kind of man, it seems.

“I think you should work for it, little lady. C’mon. Show me there’s still a bit of pep in them old bones.

Hanzo burns with shame yet obediently crawls astride McCree’s bony hips. He is meaty and heavyset against the gangly youth of the other but McCree does not seem to mind it at all. To the contrary: as one hand finds the silken shawl dangling from Hanzo’s throat again, the other starts working up his thighs and towards his pecs, groping and squeezing while he waits for Hanzo to fumble his cock upright so he can sit himself down on it.

There, too, McCree is so very familiar to Jesse.

His cock is the same, minus a few curious scars that Hanzo will have to ask Jesse about; only that it looks almost grotesquely large on the skinny frame.

It slides home smoothly and without a hitch all the same. It fills Hanzo well, making his belly feel full, insides bloated with cock.

He can’t properly enjoy it, however, because McCree is endlessly tormenting him: pinching his sides and his nipples, tugging on the tastefully groomed pubes around the base of his cock, playing with his foreskin just this side of rough.

It makes Hanzo whiney, squirming as he opens eyes he hadn’t realized he closed.

McCree is staring up at him with his insolent grin, slowly curling Hanzo’s scarf around his fist once more to pull it taut.

“No slacking off babygirl. Use that pretty cunt you got. I know it can’t be too stretched out.”

Hanzo flushes dully and tenses his thighs; forces himself to lift up and sit down in slowly as he stares down at this young, mean face.

He never wanted to believe Jesse when he said that he used to be a little shit, but apparently he’s told nothing but the truth.

Still, Hanzo can’t make himself stop. He could snap this young insolent whelp across his knee like a twig, but he can feel himself getting addicted to the way he uses – and abuses – him.

McCree does it like a game; like it is inevitable that this older, distinguished gentleman will be slavering for his dick like it is the finest treat he could imagine. Hanzo is humbled by the fact that it is true. That he will spring through hoops just so he can have the treatment McCree dishes out on a regular basis.

McCree laughs at him. His teeth, though their set is familiar, are, miraculously, even more yellow than nowadays.

He’s a disgusting, rude young man but when he jerks on the scarf and fucks up once, Hanzo obediently gurgles and almost comes.


	10. Winston/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winston/Jack – human!Winston; feminization; dirty talk; hair kink; lingerie – Jack loves hairy men

It amuses Jack somewhat just how obsessed he has become with Winston when much earlier in his life he would never have looked twice at the bumbling, chubby scientist.

He wonders sometimes what the young Jack would have said if he’d seen how his older counterpart was lounging around in nothing but his pants, watching lost in reverie as a hairy man with a large, firm gut shows off a pair of dark red panties that are hopelessly lost beneath the swell of his belly.

Ultimately, it does not matter what his young self would have thought. Not when Jack is so very content with his current situation; getting to watch Winston squirm in front of him, shoulders hunching, trying to somehow hide himself away.

Winston is… refreshing. There is no false affectation with him; no seduction, no games other than the ones that Jack proposes and Winston reluctantly agrees to after getting his dick jerked nice with a slicked hand.

He has no idea how to stand sexy and show off the panties and the bulge he’s carrying around in them.

His glasses are nearly fogged over with the heat from his own body and if Jack were to hazzard a guess he would say that Winston is pathetically glad for not having to see Jack.

“Turn around,” he tells him and Winston presses his lips into a thin line but obeys and carefully turns.

His whole body is just so… hairy. Jack had had to pause the first time he’s seen him, his belly gone tight and needy at the thick line of fur down the large, firm swell of his belly. The thick hair along his under arms and across his soft pecs.

Winston is probably as close to looking like a gorilla as a person can get and Jack has never been so utterly _infatuated_ with someone. Not for a long time, at least.

He takes a deep breath and stands abruptly. Winston nearly flails away, watching him approach with trepidation. He is a large man that could hold his own in a fight against Jack if only for the sheer bulk that could pin him down, but he is a _thinker_ and not a _warrior_ and tends to think he is smaller than he is.

Jack grins at him lopsidedly and turns him around a bit roughly; pushes him against a table and pushes until he leans over.

It is all a bit rude; a bit more mean than Winston actually deserves, but he forgets being awkward and nervous when he gets bullied by Jack and Jack does not mind slapping him around a bit as long as it’s nothing too serious.

He gets his hands at Winston’s ass; hooks a thumb into his panties and tugs them to the side so he can see that hairy little slit between his cheeks when he spreads them apart.

Everything is shiny and slick from Winston obediently preparing himself beforehand and Jack groans deep and rough in his throat.

“Would you just look at that pretty pussy…” he croons, leaning forward and fucking his clothed crotch against Winston just to feel him shudder. His skin is heating up as he lets his head fall forward, whining pathetically.

Jack fumbles with his pants until his cock flops out; slaps against Winston’s tailbone and immediately drools against the fine weave of his panties like Jack fleetingly imagined himself doing earlier: kneeling in front of Winston and shoving his head beneath his belly so he can liberally soak the fabric stretched taut across his bulge with spit.

It only takes the vague suggestion of a nudge to get his cock on board; have it nose up to the warm soft muscle of Winston’s cunt and start to snuggle in like a little animal. 

Winston makes a drawn-out sound, high and pathetic and shuffles his feet farther apart to accommodate the cock sliding into him and spreading his insides apart.

Jack grunts, his arms coming around the scientist, hooking beneath his arms so his hands can naturally migrate towards his pecs which he cups and squeezes to feel how soft they are, the hair curiously soft against his palms.

“You can make a gay man turn straight with those tits you got,” he purrs against the back of Winston’s head. Winston, in response, chokes on his tongue. Jack squeezes them mean and hard, pinching his plump nipples between thumb and forefinger until Winston’s nice, deep voice goes high-pitched again as he squeals and jerks in time with Jack’s rough pulls on his teats.

Jack chuckles, his hips moving languidly as he gently fucks into the well-used hole of the scientist. When they first started, Winston had been as tight and cute as a virgin; whining and fucking the sheets with the same desperation as he’s tried to hide his hairy snatch away from Jack’s questing fingers that just wanted to tickle it and show him a good time.

Now, he still is shy and horribly embarrassed, but his insides are squishy and hot and ripple around Jack’s cock nicely; not trying to force him out but actively drawing him in as he gently rocks into him, motions at odds with the rough, mean pull of his hands against his chest.

“You’re a pretty girl, aren’t you? Gonna dress in a cute dress? Show off how nice your tits look all squished together?”

He does it now with his hands; presses Winston’s hairy pecs towards each other until he must have a cleavage as nice and hirsute as his ass. The thought makes Jack’s cock jerk inside him, balls almost aching with the need to unload.

Winston is trying to say something but can’t make his tongue work for him. He sounds like he’s about to die of embarrassment but he is hot and soft all around and his hips are cautiously rocking back into Jack.

“Gonna fuck your tits, babygirl,” Jack croons at him and Winston goes curiously quiet in the way he has when he comes in thick, sticky ropes.


	11. Soldier76/McCree/Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soldier76/McCree/Reaper – fresh out of DL McCree; rude McCree; spanking; mild CBT/Ball crushing; throat fucking – This will never work to train McCree out of his bad habits...
> 
> (Gabriel calls McCree ‘kid’ a lot but McCree is way into his twenties by this point)

For all that the kid usually has an ego the size of Mexiko he has been reduced to nothing more than a wailing brat with a firm hand and just a few swats against his scrawny ass.

Gabriel watches with a scowl on his face that is only half faked, arms crossed and legs planted firmly shoulder width apart. He is naked but he does not act like it, and while McCree had been ogling him earlier, a broad grin on his face and a lewd remark on his tongue, he now does not even throw a sidelong glance at him as he is bend over Jack’s lap and receiving his spanking.

_Whack._

Jack’s hand snaps down again, colliding with a meaty smack that almost makes Gabriel wince but mostly has him filled with a kind of unholy glee.

McCree wails openly. He sounds like he is being stabbed or some shit, but Gabriel does not hold it against him. He’s put up a brave front for most of the evening but Jack has huge paws and he does not pull his punches – it’s only been a matter of time until McCree started sniffling and trying to squirm away from the rough palm colliding with his rear and the backs of his thighs with sharp, unrelenting motions.

Another smack comes down, rocking McCree forward, and startling him into irregular hiccups.

Gabriel, taking this as his cue, finally steps forward. Jack throws him a glance, then pauses in his tireless spanking, his hand coming to rest on what must be McCree’s unbelievably hot bottom by now.

Gabriel reaches down and grips at McCree’s messy hair, pulling the kid’s head around. His face is wet with tears and snot. It is supremely unattractive but Gabriel can feel his cock give a lazy twitch regardless because McCree always has been his Achilles Heel.

“Well? Got anything to say for yourself?” he finally asks gravely when it seems like McCree’s hiccups are somewhat settling down.

McCree’s eyes are big and vulnerable and innocent for a moment; enough so that it makes Gabriel pause and feel… weird. Like they’ve done something bad and irreparable. The feeling does not last: the vulnerability vanishes from McCree’s wet and red face, replaced by the much more common sight of a defiant – if wobbly – grin.

“Didn’t know you guys were so kinky, boss.”

Gabriel throws him a flat, unimpressed look that is destroyed by his cock twitching again – right in front of the brat’s eyes whose face immediately lights up considerably. 

“Ooooh boss. I can help ya with that. Could’ve just told me that ye’re in need of a good ride, y’ know.”

Jack’s face darkens and his hand collides with McCree’s ass again, sudden and hard enough to make the kid audibly bite his tongue as his jaw clacks closed and new tears shoot into his eyes.

Gabriel snorts. He jovially shakes McCree’s head with the grip he has on his hair like he’s holding a wet little puppy.

“You’re a goddamn ingrate, McCree – but you’ll listen sooner or later.”

He grabs his dick with his other hand, lifting it and smearing the wide, spongy head against McCree’s expressive mouth.

The kid opens up automatically; seemingly on reflex. Someone has taught him well, and Gabriel fleetingly wonders who’d been desperate enough to stick his dick into this foul-mouthed little mongrel, but truth be told – he would have done the same.

(Maybe even would have let the kid mount up if he’d gotten him riled enough to ignore the stupid shit constantly spewing from his grinning mouth.)

He carefully fucks his cock against the soft pad of McCree’s tongue, then pushes it into the silky pocket of his cheek just to watch it bulge.

McCree looks a bit overwhelmed for all of ten blissful seconds as he still struggles with the smart sting of his backside, but just when it looks like his face is going to morph into the best approximation of a shit-eating grin with his mouth full of cock, Jack reaches between his thighs from behind and curls one mean hand around the heavy heft of the kid’s balls.

McCree’s face instantly warps into utter dismay. Before he can pull back, Gabriel steps closer, crowding in and carefully but unrelentingly feeding him more of his cock.

McCree struggles for all of three seconds before Jack does _something_ to his sac and he becomes as docile as a newborn kitten, holding still long enough that Gabriel can ease his way into his throat.

“I will make you a deal, McCree,” he tells him, staring down right into the kid’s wide, brown eyes until he can see the pupils go small like pin-pricks. He pulls back then, listening to him gasp and cough around his dick before he starts fucking back in.

“You stop being a little punk shit and maybe Jack and I will be inclined to playing with you more often from now on.”

He sounds calmer than he feels with his cock down McCree’s silky throat and Jack watching him with his cool, blue eyes, one of his big hands curled cruelly around McCree’s balls.

It is hotter than it has any right to be, and from the small twitch in the corner of Jack’s mouth he knows he’s been caught already.

McCree stares at him mutely – tough to talk with a cock choking you – and Gabriel gets the feeling that he will say anything at this point just to have them be nice to him and stop strangling his balls.

He can’t say that he minds repeating the lesson a couple of days from now if McCree hasn’t been cured of his little _attitude problem_.


End file.
